Bloggers of the Round Table

The debate doesn't go on

It's been a long day, but how grateful I was for Marzena's deep boredom with the science versus religion debate.

And of course we best extend this profound sense of tedium to all debate, in which two positions fight for ascendancy. (Sorry - I'm yawning already at the very thought.)

Because of course there is only one position. The world is not a duality, which we can cut up like a cake. Rather, it is a whole, in which only continuums live, gradations of health - but no either/or.

When something is whole, nothing can be separated from anything; or set apart from anything. When something is whole, there can be no labels, for labels splice what cannot be spliced - and thus plunge us into ignorance.

There is no black or white; there is just black and white and every shade of grey in between, all there on the canvass; all part of the whole; all part of the one thing.

Jew or gentile? There are just people.

Me or the tree? There is just life.

Jesus or Buddha? There is just the truth.

Labour or Conservative? There's just the noise.

So the debate doesn't go on. Not until it grows up....

Global Atheist Convention

I've just listened to another radio debate between atheists and believers, and as usually, it was profoundly and predictably dull. The perennial Science vs Religion contradiction seems to be as entrenched on both sides of the debate as ever. Very boring.

Albert Einstein, arguably the greatest scientist who ever lived, said that science without religion is lame and religion without science is blind. Yet both sides of the argument used to and still do claim him as one of their own.

Einstein's views were more interesting than that and transcended the silly religious/scientific divide.
He called himself religious, agnostic, pantheist, even atheist at different times, but his position was consistent. It was an attitude of cosmic awe and wonder and a humility before the ineffable, higher intelligence behind the laws of universe, rather than belief in a personal God who takes interest in the lives of individuals.

In his own words:

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. He who does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer feel amazement, is as good as dead, a snuffed-out candle."

The 2010 Global Atheist Convention is taking place in Australia this weekend. Apparently, the tickets were sold out months in advance. One of the speakers is Richard Dawkins (of the God Delusion fame)and that might explain the pull.

Einstein's words from 1940 could easily apply to 2010 Melbourne convention's participants, the self-styled 'Brights':

"Then there are the fanatical atheists whose intolerance is the same as that of the religious fanatics, and it springs from the same source... They are creatures who can't hear the music of the spheres."

Not just a genius then, but a wise man to boot!

The Channel

To decipher inner truth
from made up bullshit,
I need to clear the channel,
That connects me to the centre of my being.

When I was new to this world,
This channel was large and open within me,
I experienced myself as one.
With all around me,
Fluid, Giving, Mallable.

But life's inconsistancies,
Brought fear and suffering,
And as I protected myself I hardened,
I became
Reactive, Sharp, Jagged.

But this does not sit easy with me,
It is not the true I,
I have been taken over by an imposter,
Who bless them,
Is convinced that,
What they do is for the best.

The true I is within,
Working to reclaim the channel,
So that the energy of inner truth,
Can always be available to me,
And once again,
I can touch Home,
Reclaim what I lost,
And return to being One with the World.

A truly great and wonderful man

Just picking up on the death of Michael Foot, and in particular, the fond and indeed effusive reaction, even in papers like the Daily Mail.

It reminds me of a sketch in the satirical show 'Not the Nine 0'Clock news', all those moons ago.

There was an interviewer and two politicians ripping into each other in a studio debate. Soon, issues were left far behind as the discussion descended into diatribe and savage personal invective, between two people who clearly loathed each other.

They were hard at it, when suddenly, one of the politicians slumped forward onto the floor, having died of a heart attack. Without pausing for breath, the other politician moved seemlessly into a eulogy for this great and dear titan of democracy..blah, blah...a credit to his party and his country, who will be much mourned and greatly missed...blah, but blah...proud to call him my friend etc. etc.

We do find it hard to value people while they're alive. Van Gogh was not the first to observe that you really need to be dead to be appreciated.

A question of perspective.

Since recent earthquake in Chile, time has speeded up.

Literally. According to NASA scientists, the power of the quake may have shifted the Earth's axis, causing faster rotation resulting in shorter days. The time and space has been altered, or should it be 'may have been altered'?

But since the amount of time lost is calculated to be 1.26 microseconds (1,26 millionths of a second!) per day, this isn't really anything to write home about. Nobody will notice and our lives will not be affected by it. So It is big news and quite an insignificant one at the same time.

It's all a question of perspective. I was reminded of the 'pale blue dot' - the famous photograph of the Earth from Voyager's mission taken from the edges or our solar system in1990. Famous astronomer Carl Sagan was moved to say some wonderful things upon seeing it:

"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.

The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands od confident religions, ideologies,and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, every hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every 'superstar', every 'supreme leader', every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there - on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."

You can see the picture and read the whole text online - it's worth the time it takes.

Looking at that picture of a cosmic vastness does freak me out - we're so small, so insignificant, so much like.. nothing..

And then I think: YEAH, EXCEPT TO EACH OTHER.. As I said, it's all a question of perspective.

Deserts of the heart

Yesterday, on the 3rd of March, the great Michael Foot died at the grand old age of 96.

He once said: "Men of power have no time to read; yet the men who do not read are unfit for power."

Quite a conundrum, that - as presumably those who do read, mostly have no time for power!

Today, incidentally, was World Book Day 2010. As it is a movable feast, there is no point remembering the date ( note to myself). But as reading appears to be my favourite way of wasting time, this blog entry wouldn't be complete without a literary offering.

And here it is, from W.H. Auden, written in memory of another great poet W.B.Yeats:

"In the deserts of the heart,
Let the healing fountain start.

In the prison of his days,
Teach the free man how to praise."

More about the subject of wasting time is in the pipeline.

Enough

As the sun sets on the day, I have been reminded by Marina of those beautiful words of Meister Eckhart, when asked about prayer:

'If the only prayer you say in your life is 'Thank you', that would suffice.

The holy grail

And thank you, my friends, for all the responses to the ''New title for 'The Beautiful Life' quest'' (See Feb 23rd blog.)

Its like the search for the holy grail in so many ways.

Quite a few of my suggestions got a vote, but there was a consensus around the themes of 'coming home' and 'being present' and 'essence'. Probably 'Coming Home' was Numero Uno.

There was a vote for 'Escaping the nonsense forest' from Hannah as she gazed out of her office window at Mount Kilimanjaro. Wonderful!

And fellow blogger Marzena suggested 'Touching presence' which I like very much and passed on to Bloomsbury.

No one voted for No.3 in my list, which perhaps says something about the demographic of this web site. Or perhaps just good taste...

There's still time for anyone who wishes to have their say in the matter. And the truth is, it could be you who determines what is to be. Never underestimate the power of your choices.

Anyway, I'll get back to you as soon as I know more. This blog will be the first place to reveal the final choice of title.

Ooh er! It's amazing the things you can get free in life.

Concerning toothache - the positives

Looking on the bright side, with a view to improved ratings, the good thing about toothache is that its really very good when it stops.

Toothache does affect mood.

With toothache, for instance, you can find yourself only marginally pleased when you win £40 million on the lottery:
'How will that go with today's prices?' you wonder.

And with toothache, on receiving your heart's desire in toto, with extras, you can muster only slight feelings of irritation at the delay.
'Fat lot of good it is now!'

But when the pain is finally dealt with, and the throb in your mouth relieved, why? -

You skip through the rain!

You laugh at your faulty plumbing!

You celebrate your dodgy knee!

You dance with the traffic warden!

You smile through the abuse!

You barely notice the latest rejection!

Your money worries melt like gorgeous hot butter!

You smile when woken in the middle of the night by the neighbours awful music! Bless them! Bless them all!

And anything anybody asks you is just fine!

...and all because your mouth is at peace, peace at last! Which is the great thing about toothache.

Its so good when it ends.

Just like this blog...

Mu

Philippe Claudel dedicated his creepy but ultimately life-affirming novel Brodeck's Report to 'all those who think they are nothing'. Quotation from V.Hugo (The Rhine) starts off the book: "I am nothing, I know it, but my nothing comprises a little bit of everything."

As a number Seven of the Enneagram I'm quite fond of a little bit of everything in my nothing. But a more serious question is this:

How is it that there is a world of difference between the feeling of being nothing (the despair of someone feeling so totally worthless that in some cases only taking one's own life offers solution),
and the 'nothing' as a spiritual aspiration of those 'on the path' to 'enlightenment'?

How come the apparent lack of ego in the first group leads to extremes of suffering, but the so called spiritual person who strives to shed their ego is so often driven by the very beast?. My nothing is better than yours, you can imagine them thinking .. My nothing comprises of a little bit more of everything than your nothing.. My nothing is quite something, while yours is not really up to scratch, it.. it lacks something.

The grave of the great Japanese film director Yasujiro Ozu (of the Tokyo Story) bears no name, only the Japanese character Mu - literally "nothingness". Mu is a central theme in Japanese worldview. It doesn't refer to a state of nonbeing, but rather it transcends all ideas of existence and nonexistence, thing and nothing, yes and no, leading to.., you got it - enlightenment.

This concept is too much for my vagrant mind and my brain is starting to hurt as I think and write this.

But I guess this is rather like being asked: " Have you stopped beating your wife?", if you either have no wife, or never beat your wife in the first place. Both straight yes and no as an answer would give the wrong idea and would -one way or another - be self-incriminating.

The right and only answer would be one of the following: 'pass', 'your question has no answer as it starts with wrong assumptions', 'unask your question', finally- ' whatever'.

Or you could simply say: Mu. That would be quite something, or maybe even quite nothing..

I need your help here

I wrote a book a while back, and now it's sold out in hardback, there's a paperback Second Coming planned, when the publishing skies shall truly be rent asunder.

BUT, first things first: they want to change the name.

It used to be called 'THE BEAUTIFUL LIFE - Ten new commandments because life could be better.' But that idea is now wrapping fish and chips, yesterday's news and reassuringly impermanent.

So what now? Well, marketing are no doubt giving it their full and undivided attention. But so am I, at least for the last half hour, and here are some of my ideas... and please, don't expect too much. I'm quite short.

1) ESCAPING THE NONSENSE FOREST - Map provided.

2)BECOMING PRESENT - Plus nine other really good ideas.

3) F**CKED PSYCHE, HEALED - ten transformations on the journey home.

4) A PERSON OF SUBSTANCE - The book of your success story

5) ESSENCE - Isn't it time you came home?

6) TRUTH, PSYCHOLOGICAL, FOR SALE - Buy now to avoid disappointment

7) COMING HOME - Ten free tickets for the journey

I'm very sad we can no longer have the comments facility on this blog. But if you had a preference from the above, or a better idea, do let me know via the 'contact' facility on this site - whether you've read the book or not, I'm not proud.

So come on, which one of those titles reaches out to you?

Your country needs you.

Unsolved

Today yet again, the dark shadows have appeared
And are looming over her, backing her into a corner,
She can feel herself disappearing
Going, going, gone,
She is losing touch with reality,
Paranoia has come knocking
And is twisting truth into something unrecognizable.
Huge anger is rising
And is pouring out of the creature which has appeared in her place,
Lighting bolts of undiluted rage let lose at any opportunity,
Washing up left in the bowl, the cat waiting to be fed,
In fact at any fucking thing!
She's lost, she wants to be lost, she needs to be lost,
The alternitive is to accept some ownership of this hateful creature,
To look into this dark mirror takes courage,
which she can not find.
This creature scares her, she can feel her stomach churning, her heart beating so hard as if it is making its own dash for safety,
She is frozen in time, too aware of its power,
It's destructive negative energy
Always looking for a target,
When did the victim become the attacker?
Help me, help me, she calls
Please, please rescue me, she pleads
All in vain, nobody comes
Nobody ever came.
The case is shut - stamped 'Unsolved'
The killing took place too long ago.
But she's there, still waiting for justice,
Still waiting for the resurrection.
All she can do is weep
And wonder how many tears do the dead have to cry?

My Patio insight

Yesterday, to celebrate the fact of reaching yet another birthday (two weeks after the actual date), I went with some friends for dinner at the Patio, a Polish restaurant in Shepherds Bush. It's one of West London's best kept secrets, as they say, and lovely time we had of it.

That life is evanescent and fleeting is not much of a discovery. The march towards the inevitable nothingness is relentless and speeds up as we grow older. But to use that knowledge to enhance our enjoyment of life rather than put a damper on it, is a hard skill to learn.

Yesterday, surrounded by the banter of friends, food of my childhood, and delicious wine ( not to mention shots of vodka served on the house!), life was sweet and my heart filled with warmth and gratitude. Today, that memory is already tinged with a hint of melancholy..

Everything changes and maybe one cannot step into the same river twice, but nothing is going to erase or change the fact that once (even if never again) I felt as I did.

Scrubbing up nicely

I hate to gate-crash on the beauty and fragile strength of wabi-sabi, but I'm still recovering from Valentine's Day massacre of the innocents.

I have no doubt Gordon Brown was dragged kicking and screaming into the Piers Morgan interview, but the ultimatum was clear: 'Get this, Gordon - either you go and talk about how you felt as your daughter Jennifer died in your arms, or you won't be Prime Minister in a few months. So will you do it?'

Labour knew they were lagging behind in the 'Misery' stakes, after David Cameron's son Ivan, who died of cerebral palsy, had appeared in so many interviews a few months back.

Valentine's Day was the day of the broadcast, but wait a minute! Here's David Cameron being interviewed in Scotland on the same day, and surprise, surprise, he's 'struggling for words' - Tony Blair could do 'struggling for words' very well; are their 'strugggling for words' coaches? - as he talked about, wait for it,Ivan again! Saying he 'wished he'd taken more time off to grieve'.

Two dead children in one day! It would be funny, if it wasn't so tragic on so many levels. As the election approaches, the cold bodies of Jennifer and Ivan are scrubbing up nicely. And I'm 'struggling for words' as I write this and am 'close to breaking down'.

Please like this blog entry; please like me. My childhood was worse than yours, and if I start crying, believe me, I will flood the world...

Can I be in charge now?

A shared moment.

A few days ago I was walking along Holloway road, dodging others either shopping or like myself hurrying home from work, when I noticed a small boy, My guess about 3 years old, reaching out to touch people as they walked past him, his Mum was oblivious as she held his hand, her mind probably on what she needed when she reached the front of the fruit stall queue.
As I watched he reached out and tapped anybody who came close enough, and nobody noticed, until a young boy a few years older than himself turned round and gave him a scowl, however he wasn't put off and carried on with his game.
When I reached him, I held out my hand and was rewarded with a high five and a beaming smile,which made my heart sing.

I may never see him again,but we shared a moment and to me it was gift all the way.